heart heavy
by ribbonelle
Summary: It was a shame. Papyrus would have loved her. A Sans/Toriel fic.


__sans/toriel; post-neutral ending where only toriel was spared.__

 _so um. this is sans' pov, so it's serious angst and grief but in true sans fashion (i hope). also terrible, concentrated fluff eventually, but the sads, first. i watched the vid with all the neutral endings and was overcome by the urge to write something about him living with toriel in the ruins. papyrus is mentioned a lot, here. for obvious reasons. thank you again becidot for puns and mercurymaplekey on tumblr for being the best beta 3._

* * *

 **but hey! its not all bad!**

 **when the queen went back to the ruins… i decided to go with her. and i took some books out of the library, too. so she won't have to read the same ones. she's a good roomie. we have a lot of fun.**

 **… you know. sometimes the queen talks about…how she'd like to see you again. isn't that nice? i don't have the heart to tell her what you did. do you know how she'd react? if i told her 'cause she protected you…you went on to kill my brother…?**

 **…anyway. never come back here. you are not welcome. later.**

It took Sans a while to realize what was going on in the Underworld, after. Their world wasn't that big, but he hadn't been so involved with anything else, after. Not for some time.

Papyrus was dust, and there was literally no reason to pretend he cared about anything anymore.

Things were bad. For Sans, personally, but also for monsterkind considering the situation they had ended up in. ( _Personally_ , Sans had done nothing for days but lie down on the floor of Papyrus' room, willing away the insistent, deep pain in his chest, and failing. Failing, for days. Always failing.)

The souls were gone and Asgore was dead. The head of the Royal Guards, Undyne, was gone too, and the people were in despair, they were afraid. Sans found out about this even further afterwards, after he eventually left Papyrus' room. While it seemed like a good idea that he stayed in their home forever, till he too was dust, Papyrus probably would have been very displeased. Sans would have made a mess. Papyrus wouldn't have wanted a mess, not after how clean he had kept their home.

Someone had stepped up to rule, out of nowhere, and it was not much of a surprise that it was their long lost queen, Toriel. No one had heard of or seen Queen Toriel for a long, long time, but they were aware that she was still in the Underworld, somewhere.

Sans heard of her, and knew right away. Didn't even need to hear her voice. Perhaps it was a gut feeling or intuition, but Toriel was the lady behind the door of the ruins, and he was sure of it.

She released a new policy, a statement distributed by magic to the masses; all humans were to be protected.

No one agreed to that. Sans himself didn't. As good as her intentions were, Queen Toriel had just reclaimed the throne after years of absence and decreed that they do nothing about what had taken place, instead _welcome_ humans into their world, if they were so inclined to fall down into the ruins once more. No one was willing to take that risk again. Their King and heroine were dead, and the Queen seemed to be out of her mind. It was inevitable that the people rebelled.

Queen Toriel was gracious about it. Too gracious, even, Sans chuckled for the first time in weeks after hearing the news; the Queen just agreed to up and leave, returning to the ruins. There would be no conflict, when she was involved. She chose the most peaceful option available.

It was something Papyrus would do.

And so Sans made a decision.

/

She opened the door, this time.

They have had many conversations through that very door, they had traded puns and jokes and stories, and they have told each other things about themselves, things that not many people knew about. At least, it was like that for Sans.

He could never really tell anyone what he knew, what he thought about, but he had told his friend in the ruins many things. Somehow, after all those conversations, he had come to have faith in the voice behind the door to stay, and listen. It felt like someone cared. The voice was his respite.

Toriel had opened the door, and he had said, "Knock knock." Her eyes had gone wide, surprised.

She broke into a _beautiful_ smile then, and Sans couldn't help the hope rising up in his bones.

"Who is there?

"Egg."

"Egg who?"

"Eggcited to finally meet you."

Her laughter was infinitely better in person. She wiped at her eyes, her smile genuine and weary and relieved, and when he reached a hand out for her, she took it.

"I'm glad," Toriel said, and Sans' ache lessened, just a little bit, "I quite missed your yolks."

/

The Ruins was actually pretty neat. It was quiet in a calm way, and Toriel had a really cute house in it. She showed him around, as they caught up with each other, and it was kinda inevitable that Sans considered living there. He needed to stay there.

For some reason, it seemed like Toriel needed company, too.

They talked about everything. Well, everything that happened after the human first fell down, at least. Toriel didn't mind not being the ruler. She stepped up because there was no one else, and she was still Queen of the Underworld, but there was no forcing the unwilling to accept her rule. She was adamant about a lookout in the ruins still, and since they didn't want her as leader, then she'd just resume what she had been doing all along. No human would come to harm, if she met them first. She had come to love the humans who fell down. She had had human children, who fell down.

"Two, exactly," she said with a soft voice, a little smile on her face, and Sans felt a lurch inside of him that made him want throw up. She didn't know. She'd never know.

Toriel asked him about Papyrus' whereabouts.

He couldn't answer. He smiled up at her; that was just how he was; then looked away, keeping silent. She touched his hand and never asked again.

She would know what loss felt like. Maybe one day they'd talk about it. But not yet.

They sat in Toriel's living room, at the table, side by side (Toriel sat at one end, and Sans took the seat right next to her; he didn't want to be far away). She perked up after a while, suggesting that she make them something to eat, and asked Sans to please bear with her for a moment.

He followed her to the kitchen. Shrugged sheepishly when she said that he needn't go through the trouble, and then was thoroughly flustered when she leaned down to kiss the top of his cranium. Toriel smiled like she knew what was up, but handed him a ladle and said, "I could definitely use a _ladle_ help!"

Sans made up his mind.

He was a skeleton with a plan, usually, but he couldn't stop himself, couldn't help just blurting out his words in that kitchen, "Tori, is it okay if I come stay here with you?"

Toriel stopped what she was doing and looked at him in surprise. The smile that curved her lips then was just as lovely as the very first smile she had for him, and she fell to her knees to gather him in a hug, like _he_ was doing her a favour, "I would lovethat! You are very welcome to live here with me, Sans." He hugged her in return, making himself give in to this sliver of contentment, and Sans found himself breathing easier.

/

Nothing was permanent, nothing was concrete, he knew it. He felt it (in his bones).

Sans didn't have the specific knowledge of what was repeatedly happening to their world, but he knew that he had done certain things a number of times; he knew that nothing was _surely_ forever. There was always a change of their lives...resetting, going back to its default, and they'd just start from square one again.

Papyrus would be alive at square one.

However, Sans did not have the power to actually trigger this default setting. He simply knew of it, but was powerless in the end. All he could do was wait.

He was living in the _now,_ he was present in this very moment, and that consisted of him moving into the ruins, spending time with Toriel.

Papyrus would have loved Toriel. He would have adored her, Sans knew. Sometimes he lamented the fact that he hadn't brought Papyrus with him during his shifts manning the sentry station, when he had those conversations with Toriel, the voice behind the door. He had told Papyrus about the voice, of course, and in return told the voice about his brother, but they had never actually spoken to one another.

(Of course Toriel wouldn't have opened the door. They had been over her reasons for that a while ago, he understood, and Papyrus would have understood, too, but. But—)

It was a shame. Papyrus would have loved her.

Papyrus would have...

It was a nice life, living with Toriel like this. He had always been especially partial to her when she was a disembodied voice behind a door; there was no doubt how hopelessly fond of her he had become now that they have met. Toriel was kind and soft. Caring and gentle. There was grief, sometimes, in her words and in her eyes, but she was evidently strong enough to contain it, to keep it quiet.

She was like Sans, in some ways. Sans could only hope that those few ways were where their similarities ended.

Some days they'd laugh so much that they ran out of breath. Some days Sans would close his eyes, resting in the armchair he brought as he focused on Toriel reading aloud from the new books he added to her collection, feeling like all was right in the world. (It wasn't, but he had a few minutes every day to pretend.)

Some days they'd do their own thing, catering to their own interests by themselves. Knowing each other were in the proximity was good enough.

Things weren't so bad. But nothing was permanent and Papyrus was dust.

Toriel would never find out, if Sans had his way. She would never find out how Papyrus had died, what the human had done. She would never know that the person she so dearly misses every day was Papyrus' murderer.

She would never know that the human she had protected and let out of the ruins... had went on to kill Sans' brother.

Sans didn't blame Toriel. She had no ill intent, she didn't mean for anything bad to happen. Her letting the human out of the ruins did lead to other things, but...it wasn't her fault. Sans believed in that.

She made him happy.

He was living in the now and she made him happy, and he wanted to make her happy as well.

(Things could disappear in the blink of an eye, all of this might not matter in the near future, it was a gnawing presence in Sans' mind. Simultaneously, he remembered, and tried to forget.)

Life went on.

/

He wasn't sure if it was his soul finally giving up on him, or he was having a delayed reaction to everything, but Sans started shaking and realized he couldn't stop, he was trembling and he was sure he'd fall apart.

It was bad. He could feel magic materializing around him, snapping in his joints, in his eye sockets. He had been doing so well. He thought he'd been doing so well.

He had come in to—to retrieve a pair of oven mittens. Toriel had said that she had a smaller pair in the closet of the very first room in the house, the—the room the human slept in, and he had gone to take them. He didn't find them.

Papyrus was dead.

Sans fell to his knees, his limbs just giving way. He had to clutch his head; it felt like he was _breaking;_ his fingers were trembling, his entire frame quaking.

How was he supposed to... Was this even worth it? He was alive and Papyrus was dead and the human who killed Papyrus had lived in this very house, had slept in the bed he was now sleeping in and—

Toriel loved the human, so much that she allowed them to leave and then—and then _kill_

He knew this. He was extremely aware, he had been aware ever since he saw Papyrus' skull fly off from a distance, thinking it was just his vision playing tricks on him, not even considering the possibility of the human doing the unthinkable, because his brother was everything. Papyrus was the most innocent soul in the Underworld, why would anyone hurt him?

He was wrong.

And now, he was on the floor of the house in the ruins, losing himself. Helpless.

Waiting for a reset of the timeline was agonizing. Waiting for _something_ to happen made him feel fucking useless, he couldn't even do anything and he—

Staying here and living life made him sick to the marrow, as good as he felt, because he _knew,_ he'd live with this knowledge forever and she wouldn't, she'd go on not knowing and talking about the human like they've done nothing wrong, and every time she does it twisted him up inside, made him _sick—_

Sans could not stop shaking. He gripped harder at his head, willing himself to calm down, but all he could see is blue and white snow and dust.

And Toriel did not know about—

"It's done, Sans!" Her voice interrupted his ugly thoughts, from outside the door of the room, "You were right, ketchup and meatloaf really _is_ a good combination, I thank you for that." The door opened, and she was there, and Sans was still shaking.

The silence was heavy.

Then Toriel was a flurry of white and robes and the softest of touches, on her knees just like Sans, her voice soft and low with concern, "Sans? What is the matter?"

He wanted to tell her. Sans wanted to tell her _badly_ , it was choking pressure in his throat.

"M-meatloaf's done?" He said instead, smile ever-present, though he couldn't help his shaking, "That's good."

She touched his face, worry knitting her eyebrows. Blue was still in the periphery of his vision, his magic going wild, and he was hurting her, he knew. It zapped away at her hand; he could see static causing her white fur to stand up. And yet, Toriel didn't flinch.

"What is wrong, Sans?" she asked again, and Sans wanted to cry, "Please let me help you."

Everything was wrong. Papyrus was dead and Toriel loved his murderer and Sans was still here, still alive, content and pained and waiting, forever waiting, and there was no way to put everything into words. He wanted this hurt out of him, some way or another, but he'd hurt Toriel in the process.

He couldn't bear that. He couldn't ever do that.

Sans let go of his head to reach for Toriel's arms, to hold on. She let him, pulling him closer, soothing hands still on his face. Sans took deep breaths, focusing on the solidity of Toriel, trying to ground himself.

It still hurt. It'd always hurt. It was a dark, festering wound in his core and only he knew the pain, and—he could handle it. He had his moments. But he could handle it.

Sans looked up, and despite his suffering, Toriel's face lessened it a little. She meant so much to him. He wished things didn't turn out the way they did, but she meant _so much_ to him.

"I loaf you," he said, there were tears sliding down his cheeks; they were his, "You're the only person I have left, Tori. And because. Because meatloaves."

Toriel gasped a little, but gathered him into a hug, tightly enveloping him in her arms, so much that he felt _safe,_ "I love _you._ I love you too, Sans. I will help you, anyway I can."

Sans wrapped his arms around her neck, overwhelmed, smiling so hard it hurt, "You're already helping, Tori. You ..." But he lost his words, and it didn't matter. Toriel didn't let go of him. Sans hoped she'd never let go.

He wouldn't tell her. Sans had protected Papyrus from the reality of their world by keeping things from him, so Papyrus wouldn't be hurt, and Sans will do the same for Toriel.

He loved her.

"Tori, thank you. But I'm... I'm ok. Can't you see how calm and collected I am?" Sans said, face pressed against her shoulder, "Nothing ever gets under my skin."

Toriel hugged him tighter, but couldn't help light laughter all the same, exasperated and amused.

Once again, Sans found it easier to breathe.


End file.
